The Guardians of Life and Death
by Firaga Productions
Summary: It started with a dream, but would end in a nightmare. The Digital World has been unbalanced for too long, and the effect is noticeable. The Guardian of Life has been missing for 20 digital years, and Death has reigned alone for far too long. Post Frontier.
1. 00: Prologue

**The Guardians of Life and Death**  
Firaga Productions  
20/08/2013

**note:** I've already posted this before. But I promise, it's a different story entirely. Same characters, different way of carrying it out. I've been spending the last couple years practicing and learning and changing my writing style. I loved my characters, and I loved my plot, but I didn't like the story that I had written. So, let's try this again, eh? Without further ado, Guardians of Life and Death: Take Two.

* * *

**Prologue**

Footsteps. Every direction I turn, I can't escape the footsteps. They're loud. Overpowering. And they seem to get louder the farther I run away. I continue to sprint away from the sound, not even truly sure what I'm running away from. I turn my head over my shoulder, looking for the source of the noise. I see nothing. The trees I ran through to get to where I am are gone, replaced by a deep void of black. I glance back in front of me, where the trees I was running to have disappeared, engulfed in black. I slow my sprint, but my feet stop before the rest of my body, and I topple forward, doing somersaults until I finally come to a quick, painful stop. I lay on the ground, or what was once the ground, and catch my breath. The void around me is silent.

Silence. It had been far too long since I'd heard silence like this.

It occurs to me seconds too late that the footsteps have ceased.

Before I have a chance to scramble to my feet, I am thrown into the air. I fly for what feels like miles, then land on the ground with a sickening crunch. I attempt to jump to my feet. I feel the source of the crunching sound - my ankle throbs with pain and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out in pain. I shut my eyes tight, both hands now clutching my left foot. Great. This is just great. I open my eyes again, and see standing before me the source of the catapult feeling.

The source of my nightmares.

Duskmon stares back at me, all eyes directed right towards my scrawny little body. I look down, and realize that I'm suddenly malnourished, clothes hanging off me like potato sacks. I reach a hand tenatively to touch my face; my cheekbones, I feel, jut out from underneath my eyes. I run the same hand over my stomach, and can feel each rib bone like a ladder underneath my skin. I feel fatigue wash over me. But I'm too paralyzed with fear to truly panic about my sudden affliction. Duskmon stares me up and down as I struggle to my feet. I see his eyes starting at the top of my head, running their way all the way down to my toes, and slowly back up to my face. I suddenly feel violated, as I remember all too well how it felt when I owned those very eyes. Like you could see right into the darkness of each soul you looked upon. Duskmon takes three steps towards me, and I am paralyzed. I cannot move. I stand my ground shakily, panic racing through my brain, as he takes one hand and slices his way straight through my body.

I fall to the ground, and I don't stop falling. I fall and I fall and I fall, and I find myself wondering if I'm dead. Is this the afterlife, I ask myself, and will I ever stop falling? I fall for what feels like hours, but I notice the dark void around me lighting back up. Color appears back in what was the sky. The black fades slowly to gray, then to navy, then slowly to a pale blue. I continue to fall through the gradient sky, and I begin to relax. I begin to enjoy the fall. If this is the afterlife, I decide, I suppose it's not so bad.

But just as I begin to relax and close my eyes, I hit the ground. The impact is jarring, and my head flies back and hits the ground. I see white specks all around me. I feel myself begin to black out, but I force myself to open my eyes. I can't black out. If I black out, I will surely die here.

I force my eyes open, and I remain on my back for another moment, catching my breath. Am I dead, I ask myself, and is this the afterlife? But I slowly come to a sitting position, clutching my head, and I decide that no, I'm not. I'm alive. I recognize this place. I've been here before.

I see a movement in the trees before me, and I freeze. Is that Duskmon again, here to finish me off? I crawl on my hands and knees towards the trees, towards the potential danger I realize, but I breathe a sigh of relief as the movement comes into view. It's not Duskmon after all. It's a girl. She looks to be about my age. She's tiny, this girl. She turns her head and looks towards me, but it's almost as if she's looking through me. Her eyes are a striking shade of amber, and they seem not to notice me at all. Her hair, mostly hidden beneath a soft, black hat, is a deep shade of auburn, and cut just to chin length. I look behind me, and see what it is she is looking at.

Another human, this one male. He's much older, seems to be in his mid-20's, and he wears a dark gray, pin-striped suit. He is tall and lean, but you can tell he's strong. His skin is dark, and his eyes are small and beady. He walks forward, hands in his pockets, and he steps right beside me, but doesn't give me so much as a glance. I am frozen, unable to speak up and ask them for help.

The girl, eyes narrowing, clenches her fist and her jaw, preparing it seems for a fight. But she can't fight him, I realize with horror. She's small, and he is clearly outmatching her. I jump to my feet, not thinking about my injured ankle, but notice as I put weight on it that it seems to have healed itself. I'll worry about this later, I decide, and run towards the two just before she lands a swift kick to his stomach. The man seems to explode, and throws himself at her, grabbing the girl by the shoulders and throwing her to the ground. She jumps right back up and shoves back. I stop running. The closer I get to them, I notice, the farther away they are. I'll never reach them if I keep coming closer. I am forced to watch the fight from where I am, unable to tear my eyes away. The fight continues, clearly in his favor.

Suddenly, everything around me disappears, engulfed now in white. Similar to where I was before, but white instead of black, the fighters before me don't even seem to notice. The girl is bleeding profusely from her forehead, her hat has fallen off in the fight, but the man doesn't have so much as a scratch. The blood runs in streams from a gash on her forehead, falling off her face in drops and landing on the ground, staining the white with crimson. She stops moving and falls to her knees, eyes blank and body shaking.

In horror, I watch the scene play out. It's as if I'm watching a movie, as if I'm not even here. The man, he grins, and he opens his mouth wide. His mouth stretches open, like a Cheshire cat, and he bends down towards the girl. I scream. She is devoured before my very eyes, her blood pouring from between his lips as he swallows her bit by bit. I scream. I clutch my hair in my hands as I fall to my knees. The man turns towards me. Her blood continues to fall from his lips. Runs down his chin. The ground around us turns to blood, and suddenly we're both standing in a shallow ocean of blood. It's sticky and red and stains my clothes. I stop screaming as he comes towards me. I stand. I turn to run. I make it two steps before I trip and fall again, but instead of hitting the ground I fall straight through it. I fall and I fall, and then I hit the ground with a solid impact. My head hits the ground first, and I scream.

When I open my eyes, I am back in my room. My blankets are on the floor with me. My legs dangle above my head, and I see spots. I look at the clock. 02:14, it says. I detangle myself slowly from my blankets, attempting to catch my breath. I close my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. It was only a dream, it was only a dream, I mutter. But I close my eyes for too long, and I see her face just before she is eaten. I open my eyes as widely as I can, and I don't shut them again for the rest of the night.


	2. 01: Seeing Red Again

**The Guardians of Life and Death**  
Firaga Productions

**note:** I have this headcanon that Kouichi suffers from ADD. Maybe this comes from my personal experiences? I don't think I'm self-inserting... I dunno. I just feel like he could relate well to that part of my life, is all. Also, I have a really hard time writing action. Wish me luck?

I do not own Digimon Frontier, the characters of Digimon Frontier, nor the song quoted at the beginning. As far as any other characters - any resemblance to other persons, fictional or otherwise, is strictly coincidental and unintentional on the part of the author.

* * *

**01. Seeing Red Again**

_So lay down, the threat is real_  
_When his sight goes red again._  
_- Chevelle, "The Red"_

* * *

Looking back on his childhood education, Kouichi remembered the immense difficulties he'd always had in school. It was never difficulty in learning; Kouichi had been an intelligent scholar from his first day of school and that would never change. No, the problems for him had been focusing in the classroom. As a small boy, he remembered getting into trouble with all of his teachers for staring out the window, daydreaming, excessive fidgeting, or doodling on all of his books. He retained all the information he could from class, but he found himself constantly bored, so he would read his own books in class. Novels and textbooks far beyond his grade level, but his obvious intelligence never stopped his teachers snatching the books from his hands and confiscating them for the remainder of the day.

As each school year progressed, his teachers learned to check his bookbag before he was allowed to sit down, taking the contraban before it became a problem.

Many parent-teacher conferences marked his childhood. "He's a bright young man," each teacher would inevitably say, "but he doesn't apply himself. He can't stay focused. He can't control his wandering mind." In one particular parent-teacher conference, the words "attention-deficit disorder" were brought up. That teacher was an American man, hired on as an English teacher. The disorder was one that often times afflicted highly intelligent people, causing immense boredom in the classrooms. Symptoms were all ones that affected Kouichi daily - daydreaming, fidgeting, and an inability to focus on what the teachers were saying. The teacher, Robertson-sensei, recommended that he visit a pediatric psychiatrist to identify the problem and seek corrective medicine. Kouichi was 8 at the time.

He never forgot Robertson-sensei's prognosis. It was the first time he'd ever considered that his wandering mind wasn't necessarily his fault. In fact, it was the first time anyone considered that his wandering mind wasn't his fault, and the first time anyone sought to do something about it.

Unfortunately, his mother never felt that way about it. She wrote it off quickly, like most other people he'd attempted to mention it to. It was an American thing, she had told him, an American idea designed to encourage slackers. The idea had gone as quickly as it came, and Kouichi was left right back where he was.

The oddest thing about Kouichi's wandering mind was his grades. Year after year, he was top of the class, and no one understood why. He was often asked by his classmates, but he always shrugged it off on a way that seemed humble to everyone else, but was simply as honest and transparent as he could be. Was there really a difference between the two, though?

"I study," he would always reply with a shrug of his shoulders. "I do my homework. I dunno.. I retain information better if I read it for myself."

His teachers and classmates eventually got used to his odd behavior. Writing him off as unredeemable, teachers ceased to call on him in class. Every once and a while, someone would tap him on the head with a pencil or ruler, attempting to jolt him to reality, but he would zone back out as quickly as he tuned in, and these attempts were futile at best. Considering that his marks were still top of the class, they let him be, finally deciding that his method worked for him, they supposed.

His non-participation was a legend in his classes; as a result, his teachers and classmates noticed no difference in the Kimura boy's demeanor that day. He stared out the window as usual, paying very little attention throughout all his lessons through the day. No one called on him, no one tried to speak to him, and this was okay with him. Kouichi zoned out completely that day, keeping to himself as usual, but his mind wasn't just wandering.

He couldn't get his mind to wander if he tried.

Her face.  
The man's mouth.  
Wide open, beyond the confines of human capacity.  
Blood dripping from between his teeth.  
The red.

Red, staining the floor, staining his teeth, his skin. Burning its way into Kouichi's skull.

Everywhere he looked that day, he saw red. Flashes of red from the backpacks and the redheads and the reflection from tiles or walls or whatever all that fucking red was coming from. It wouldn't go away. He closed his eyes, red dripped from the mouth of a suited man. He opened his eyes, and a redhaired girl let out a silent scream. He blinked, and Duskmon's many red eyes stared back at him. He spent his day haunted by the red, the red that wouldn't leave no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to something else.

Lunch rolled around, and Kouichi became immediately overwhelmed by everyone. He retreated to the library before any of his friends would notice, and tried to bury himself in a book in hopes to clear the images from his mind. The efforts were futile, he returned to class just as shaken as he was before.

He was starting to feel like he was being watched.

Finally, school let out, and Kouichi made his way out the door. He slid a dark green hoodie over his arms, and pulled the hood above his head. Backpack slung over his shoulders, he quickly made his way to the payphone across the street, slipping in change and dialing a number he knew by heart.

The phone rang. And rang. And continued to ring. Kouichi readied himself to throw the phone back on the hook with frustration when there was finally an answer on the other line.

"Moshi moshi, Satomi-san speaking."  
"Er... Moshi moshi, Satomi-san."

Even six years later, Kouichi was still unsure as to how he was supposed to address Satomi. He'd never been great with people, though he was much better at conversing with them than his twin brother.

"Oh, Kouichi-kun! How are you, dear?"  
"I'm doing well, thank you. Is Kouji home by any chance?"  
"Not yet, dear, he's still-"

Kouichi heard a rustling on the other end before her voice rang back clear.

"Actually, he's right here, he just walked in the door."  
_"Doomo arigato," _he said in reply, waiting for his brother's voice to fade into existence.

"Hey, brother," Kouji said cheerily. Kouichi smiled slightly at this. His brother had become quite a bit more cheerful over the last several years, though still lacking in the people skills department. Which was okay, as far as the elder twin was concerned. He wouldn't be Kouji with them.

"Hello, brother. I was wondering, do you mind coming over tonight, or if I come over there tonight?"  
"Well duh, you know you're allowed here whenever," Kouji scoffed. "I don't see why you always have to ask... What's wrong, anyway?"  
"Huh? Oh, um.."

Kouichi trailed off, unsure how to even bring this conversation to his brother's attention. His eyes shifted toward the street to his right, and he sighed audibly.

"It's alright, Kouichi, you can tell me later. I'll come over to your house, so I'll see you later, okay?"  
"Okay. Thank you."  
"No problem. Anything else?"  
"No, I don't think-"

Kouichi stopped mid-sentence, looking back at the street. A girl was walking towards him, hands in her pockets. She was dressed simply, jeans and a dark green trenchcoat. She wore a black, knit hat that rested over chin-lengthed bright red hair. He put a hand to his open mouth in recognition.

"Kouji, I'll have to call you back."

He hung up the phone just as the girl passed by, amber eyes toward the ground. She was in a hurry, it appeared. He stared after her as she walked on, unsure what to do about this. The girl, walking briskly, turned the corner, and Kouichi decided it was time to follow her.

* * *

"Shit," she muttered to herself. This damn train station was always so confusing. Why did she even bother coming here anyway? It wasn't like she had anywhere to go.

She just liked trains, she supposed. Or, rather, the train station. It was a lovely place to watch people. Travelers were some of the most honest people, she supposed. Often, when one was cranky or sleepy or uncomfortable, the most sincere of personalities came forward, and sincerity of personality was something she valued deeply.

Travelers were also fascinating to her because she wanted to travel so badly. To get out of Tokyo, out of Japan, was one of her greatest dreams. This particular station was meant mostly for cross-county traveling, to take you from one part of the country to another. These travelers could be anyone - businessmen coming home in their suits with briefcases in hand, families gone to visit their grandmothers in the country, groups of friends laughing together with arms linked, coming home from a day at the beach. And countless others! Travel was a foreign word to her, she'd never done something like it and probably never would.

She had never felt at home before, and she always wondered if perhaps her home was somewhere else, and how she could find somewhere like that.

Today, however, was different. Usually, she came to the station, found a bench near a platform, and settled in to watch. But today, she found herself toying with the idea of purchasing a ticket, to be one of the travelers that she came to the station just to envy. Her family wouldn't miss her. Her dad hadn't been around since she was 8. Her mom worked constantly to try and support her and her two younger brothers, so she was never home. Her oldest younger brother was 12 now anyway, plenty old enough to take care of himself for the evening. She had extra money anyway, she'd gotten paid from her job at the bakery yesterday.

Besides, she wouldn't go far. Just far enough to say she'd been somewhere.

By the time she came back to reality from her thoughts, she was second in line at the ticket counter, just in front of a family with 3 screaming toddlers and a boy with dark hair and a green hoodie. She looked back up, and found herself staring at the ticket handler.

'I suppose this is a sign,' she thought to herself.

"Where to, miss?"  
"Er..."

She paused. Where was she going, anyway?

"You're not sure?"  
"Um... No," she muttered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and hiding her face with her hand.  
"What's your name, little girl?" the man said, looking through a stack of papers in front of him.  
"Um... Saito Kaeda."  
"Ah.. Miss Saito.. I have your ticket right here," he replied cheerfully, handing her a piece of paper and a ticket. "You're on Platform 7, make sure you make it there on time. Train leaves in 5 minutes. Safe travels!"  
"But.. I..."

She found herself being pushed out of line and ushered towards her platform by an overly friendly attendant before she had a chance to correct the man. This wasn't her ticket. This couldn't be. Kaeda had never purchased a train ticket in her life, and certainly not this one. But still, she was curious. Where was she going, anyway?

She glanced down at the ticket, and sure enough, it was her photo paperclipped to the ticket and the receipt. Someone had purchased a ticket for her. But to where? The ending location was blank. Where was she going exactly?

A crashing noise interrupted her thoughts, and she turned around to see the dark haired boy sprawled on the ground, a luggage cart overturned next to him. She ran to the boy and grabbed his arm, helping him to a sitting position.

"Are you okay?" she asked quickly, placing a hand on his back?  
"Oh.. Um.. I'm fine," he replied shyly, face turning red. Kaeda couldn't help but giggle.  
"Here, let me help you up."

The two climbed to their feet and turned to the luggage cart, turning it upright as well.

"What were you doing, anyway?" She turned to the boy, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know those aren't bumper cars, right?"  
"I know that!" he insisted. She grinned. "It was just... in my way..."  
"Of course it was."

The redhead smiled politely at her new companion, then bowed slightly. "Saito Kaeda."

He returned the bow hesitantly, eyes moving slowly up to meet her gaze. His eyes were dark blue, only a shade lighter than his hair. His har was shaggy and in need of a haircut, bangs mixing in with his eyelashes when he blinked. "K-Kimura Kouichi," he stuttered out.

"I see. Well, Kouichi-san, it was nice to meet you. Where are you traveling to?"  
"Actually," he began. "I was looking for-"

A deafening crash interrupted his sentence, knocking them to the ground, as smoke began to surround the two.

* * *

Kouji didn't think he'd changed much in the last 6 years. He'd gotten taller. His hair had gotten longer. (His father was still insistent that he cut it. He still adamantly refused.) But most things about him had remained about the same, he thought. He was still a loner and an introvert, and no amount of extroverted friends (cough... Takuya) would ever change that. He still preferred the company of his dog and his kendo stick above the company of other people.

He didn't think that was such a bad thing, though. If the whole world were extroverts, no one would ever get any rest.

That's not to say he didn't have friends, or that he didn't value his friends. He prized his friends deeply. He just didn't feel the need for them to be around constantly, was all.

A few things had changed, of course. He met his birth mom. He became very close to her, and to Satomi as well. Maybe it was okay to have 2 moms, after all. He and his father had also become close, after ample time spent fighting (mostly Kouji) about his mother's forced absence from his life. It took the entire last 6 years for these relationships to become important to Kouji though; the Digital World didn't change him overnight, after all.

Maybe he wasn't exactly the same, he thought to himself as he walked down the street. He was walking towards his brother's house, overnight bag shifted over his shoulder, and going to someone's house to spend the night was _not_ something he'd done before the Digital World. People were a pain to him back then.

He was considerably less angry and brooding. He liked to think he'd grown out of that stage early on. (17 year olds tended to think this way.) He'd made peace with himself and with the demons in his mind, with his family and with his friends. Sure, he wasn't perfect. He still found himself slipping into anger and depression, but he liked to think he could bring himself out of it just as quickly.

Kouji felt another pang of nervousness in his stomach as soon as he opened his brother's front door. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He looked at his watch. 17:40. His mom was home by now, and Kouichi certainly should be. He slipped off his shoes, dropped his overnight bag beside them, and ran to the living area. The room was dark, the only light illuminating his mom's face coming from the television, the end of the 17:30 news program flickering across her face. She was leaned forward, elbows propped up on her knees, ponytail hanging over her shoulder.

"Mom?" he asked tenatively. She jumped slightly and exhaled deeply, turning to look at her son.

"You scared me," she breathed out, clutching her hand at her heart.  
"Sorry," he said with a smile, taking a seat beside his mom. He gestured toward the television. "What's going on?"

"There's been a crash at the train station. Platform 7, I believe."  
"The subway? I just came from there.."  
"No, sweetie, the actual train station."

Kouji nodded and glanced up at the television. He frowned at the newscaster as the man prepared to make his transition.

"Authorities still haven't discovered what's really happening on Platform 7, due to the thickness of smoke... In other news, scientists continue their study of the immortal jellyfish, _turritopsis nutricula_.."

Kouji glanced back up at his mother, who had now leaned back in her seat. She returned her son's glance and smiled.

"How are you, sweetie?"  
"I'm alright. It's been a long week at school, honestly. Um... Where's Kouichi?"

His mother frowned.

"I've been wondering the same thing.. He should've been home by now, for sure. I don't know, maybe he was held up after class for some reason.. I'm choosing not to worry until 6 o' clock..."

Kouji's eyes narrowed, and he looked back at his watch. 17:48. Something was up, he knew it. Kouji looked back at the television, where the smoke at the train station was blowing across the screen again. He watched for what felt like hours. He couldn't explain it if he tried, but he knew. Kouichi was on that platform.

"Mom... I think I know where Kouichi is," he finally said, letting out the breath he'd been holding. He leaned over to his mom and hugged her tightly, kissing her on the cheek before standing up. "We should be back tonight. Try not to worry, okay? I love you."

"I.. I love you, too," Tomoko replied, a confused glance on her face. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is going to be fine," he reassured her before walking back to the front door. He slid his feet into his shoes and opened the door, the bright sky blinding his eyes momentarily. He inhaled deeply and took off at a run. He'd only been to this train station a handful of times; he didn't travel out of town on a regular basis. Instinct took over, however, and he finally made it to the station.

"Shit," he muttered. The smoke was worse than he'd thought. Takuya's goggles would come in handy at a moment like this, he thought begrudgingly as he slid his bandana from atop his head to cover his mouth and nose. A large crowd had gathered, being held off by caution tape and police officers. Kouji scanned the area. The only safe way in would be to hop a fence 500 feet to the right of the crowd. If he could make it without being detected, that is.

"Get it together, Kouji, you're a legendary warrior, remember?" he muttered before taking off at a run. He hit the fence halfway up and began to hoist himself up and over.

"Hey, kid! You can't go in there! It's not safe!" he heard an officer shout, but he ignored it and jumped to the ground below. His brother was in there somewhere, damn it, and no threat of danger was great enough to keep him away.

Alright, Kouichi, where are you, he thought as he made his way to a set of tracks. Looking both ways, he jumped onto the tracks, covering his eyes with his arm as the smoke stung, causing them to water. He pushed his way through the smoke, following the tracks, til he finally made his way to a platform. The teenager climbed onto the platform, and he glanced around. Forward, the smoke seemed to let up, so he made his way forward, coughing his way through the fog.

There was a break in the smoke, he found, and he took this moment to breathe and scan his surroundings. There was no crash, no signs of anything that the smoke could be coming from. In fact, it was perfectly calm. He looked up. Platform 6, the sign read.

"Platform 6?" he asked himself. "But that means..."

"KOUJI!"

The anxious cry of his name jerked him out of his thoughts. Across the tracks was Platform 7. Across the tracks, a redhaired girl cowered behind a boy, shaking with fear. Across the tracks, a dark haired boy protected a girl and cried out a name.

Across the tracks was his brother.

"KOUICHI!" he shouted back. "Don't worry, I'm coming!"  
"Watch out!" came a warning reply. "It's digital!"  
"Wait, what?!"

Kouji stopped at the edge of the platform and looked down the tracks. It was digital, this much was true. A huge digimon, one he'd never seen before, roared loudly. The platform underneath him shook with this roar. Kouji's eyes narrowed as the beast turned towards him, obviously preparing to run towards him. He looked back at his brother, took a few steps back, and ran. Kouji jumped across the tracks, everything was set in place for him to clear the jump, but instead he made it halfway and vanished into thin air.

* * *

"What the fuck just happened?!" Kaeda screamed, tears falling down her face. Kouichi turned towards her and grabbed her by the shoulders, attempting to calm her.

"I promise you, I will explain later. But for right now, I need you to trust me, and to let me borrow your phone."  
"My... phone?" Kaeda cocked her head, wiping a tear from her cheek. Kouichi nodded. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a thin, black phone.

Kouichi thanked her, and took the phone, quickly dialing a number he knew by heart. He put the phone to his ear, and waited impatiently, the roar of Skullgreymon shaking the platform again.

"Kanbara residence, Takuya speaking," he finally answered. Kouichi grinned.  
"Takuya, it's Kouichi. I don't have time to explain. There's a portal to the Digital World on the tracks of Platform 7 at the train station.. Yes, the one that's on fire right now. It's not really on fire... I don't have time for this. Get the others, come here quickly. Kouji's already gone through by mistake. I'm going next. Hurry!"

Kouichi shut the phone off, and looked back at the girl.

"Kaeda, you're not going to understand why. But I'm going to go jump through that. My brother just went through a portal to another world. I'm going after him. As soon as I go through, I need you to run. Okay?"  
"Okay," she replied with a small voice.

Kouichi nodded and turned back to the portal. He, like his brother, took a few steps back, and then took off at a sprint, disappearing as soon as he hit the middle of the tracks.

Kaeda looked around. She was alone now. That-that thing, that monster... He roared again, shaking the ground beneath her feet. Digital World? Skullgreymon? What did any of this mean, she wondered.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," she muttered.


End file.
